


You don't know how to love me when you're sober

by morepopthanpunk



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marijuana, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Smut, Songfic, Zouis smut, alright whatever thats enough tags bye, idk its pretty bad ?? who knows, wicked banter lmao, zouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morepopthanpunk/pseuds/morepopthanpunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I kiss better when I'm drunk<br/>Sex is best when you're not in love</p>
            </blockquote>





	You don't know how to love me when you're sober

**Author's Note:**

> based off Sober by Selena Gomez and Fall Into These Arms by New Politics :)

It was lazy, it was casual, it was boring to the strangers passing them on the streets. It was pancakes thrown at faces on dreary Wednesday mornings. It was cold stares that broke into giggles. It was mutual hand jobs under the table at dinner and obvious winking after every sexual innuendo.

But any 'love' between them didn't exist when they were sober.

Zayn and Louis weren't the types to show off their love to the world. When asked if they were together, they more often than not blew it off with either smoke in the face of the person or an eye roll and synchronised turning on their heel. Their reaction was only like this because they themselves didn't even know if it was real or not. They didn’t know where to draw the line between friends and… whatever they could be.

~

Louis passed the clear liquid across the kitchen counter to Zayn. It slid smoothly and directly into his open palm. Glasses were expensive and too classy for the unshaven boys who ate takeout off paper plates every night. A gulp from the bottle, a caustic laugh at their life and a content hum as the alcohol slid down their throats and burned their chests. Repeat.

"M' bored Lou." Zayn muttered, not really expecting a reply, staring off beyond the frosted window to his left, and passing the bottle back and forth between his hands.

"Same."

"K.”

Their responses were mechanical, driven by boredom rather than the alcohol coursing through their systems.

"C'mere you little shit, don't 'k' me."

Louis shifted forward on the bar stool, removing his hand from the marble counter, cold and shaking slightly, and placed it behind Zayn's neck. There was no gasp from either of them, no communication behind their eyes, just pure daring desire, curiosity and wonder. Zayn released his bottom lip from his teeth and Louis' lips curled at the corners slightly. They leaned forward painstakingly slowly, as if they still weren't sure that they wanted to do this. Their lips met and moulded against one another for no longer than five seconds before they pulled away, the lingering essence of liquor burning between them, sparks still tingling against their lips. Standing up completely so that he was almost the same height as Louis, still seated, Zayn stood between his legs and went back for the kiss, hands tangling themselves in his hair and only catching a glimpse of his cerulean eyes before his eyelids fell shut and their lips met once more.

~

Zayn and Louis often slept together. Well, they shared a bed. A large bed. They lay on either side, backs almost against one another at most- when it was cold out, but never closer.

Upon awakening the next morning, well, afternoon- it was around 2; Zayn rolled over and met Louis’ shut, but somewhat alert eyes with his own. He watched him stir slowly in response to the shift in weight on the bed. They were closer than usual, hands brushed against each other, heads leant together, legs half tangled beneath the sheets.  
Louis blinked slowly awake and croaked out a feeble "Morning, Z" accompanied by a yawn and a grimace to meet the time flashing at him from the screen of his phone.  

Any alcohol from the previous night had largely worn off, leaving them even without a hangover, just a dull headache and a strong desire to sleep for a little longer. They both leant in for a kiss, more confident this time even without substance to dull their inhibitions. But it was different. No sparks. No tingling feeling. Nothing... Nothing but slightly cracked lips pressed together and tension creating an insufferable bubble around the two of them.

 Zayn was unsure, what if it was just him feeling different. "Um... Did that fe-"

"Yes."

"Right."

"Do we try again?" Louis was tentative... What if it was a one-time thing? What if they just weren't meant to be and it was set to be a drunken night's memory that they'd barely recall in the next few years.

"I guess?"

They leaned in again, their lips met in a similar way, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't comfortable. It didn’t feel like... home. It didn’t feel like something they could come back to.

Zayn's hands found the nape of Louis' neck and he once more toyed with his hair, but the same touch from those hours ago suddenly felt forced.

They both pulled away and broke eye contact. If they were different people, legitimately in love, maybe, or testing the waters of a pre-established romantic relationship, things could have stayed like that. But these two were just in it for the experience, or that’s what they were telling themselves anyway.

Zayn, decidedly not a morning person, threw off the sheets at the smaller boy lying next to him, and broke the bubble the two of them were in. Broke the awkward silence and allowed the two of them to continue- as if time was back on track.  Louis promptly sat up and began fumbling around for a new pair of boxers and jeans, while Zayn padded around absentmindedly murmuring something about “needing to roll a fucking joint”.

“Oi, oi, wait for me you shit head. Not getting high without me.”

The apartment the two of them shared was nothing special, one bedroom, one bathroom, one balcony looking out at some dingy London back streets. The view was actually disgusting, and not worth the rent they were being charged, but at least it gave them the much needed privacy to grow and smoke weed without their landlord, or any neighbours catching them.

Those two could sit for hours, just blowing smoke rings round each other, forming halos above their heads, despite the devilish insults and banter constantly between them.

Here they were again, getting up from their semi-recumbent postures against the cheap lawn chairs only to extinguish their joints and roll a fresh one, shielding the paper between their lips from the harsh London winds when they lifted their lighters and leaning back just as their hands fell back to rest against their thighs. Blowing out soft puffs of smoke; dreams and thoughts getting lost in the clouds, so did their inhibitions. It was like being drunk again, they started seeing what was so attractive in each other and before long they were craving the next step to the surface they’d only scratched the night before. They only had enough paper for one final joint, so Louis helped Zayn’s skilled fingers roll it a little faster than usual, and lit it for him, before they began taking alternate drags, their fingers brushing as much as they had last night while they passed it back and forth.

Police sirens crossed their senses, somewhere; a few streets away at most, before fading away slowly, just as the smoke did around them, clearing their direct vision and letting them realise exactly what they wanted.

“Yeah, alright no need to make it obvious Louis. Let’s get out of the cold.”

~

Zayn got to his knees and unbuttoned Louis’ jeans. This was new for the both of them, or at least doing it to each other. They’d had the experience plenty of times before. It should have been easy. It shouldn’t have taken Zayn a near three minutes to undo the button and zipper…

“Z… hurry the fuck up or I’ll just get myself off I swear to Christ.”

“Calm down, Lou.” Zayn whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“The fuck happened to your voice, what did you put in the weed, why isn’t it happening to me… are you diseased?”

“Oh shut up, and don’t worry ‘bout my voice. I don’t need it for what I’m about to do to you."

“Did you just fucking quote the Weeknd at me?”

“Do you want your dick sucked or not?”

“Alright, alright, go, get on with it.”

Zayn finally managed to get Louis to step out of his pants and once the back of his knees hit the coffee table, he could push him back so he was lying back and unable to see exactly what Zayn was doing, just feel his stubble against his inner thighs as the ghosts of kisses were left there leading up to exactly where Louis needed him.  

Zayn kitten licked the tip of Louis’ dick and used both hands to fondle the base and his balls a bit ; in no time taking Louis from his half-hard state to fully hard and almost throbbing from the simple teasing. Slowly taking in more of Louis until his lips were wrapped around the entire tip, Zayn gently hollowed his cheeks, sucking lightly on him and causing whimpers to fall from Louis’ lips. Zayn’s full lips around Louis’ dick,  his tongue ghosting over it and his teeth- there but not causing pressure- it was all so clear to Louis despite him being as good as blindfolded while he stared up at the cracking living room ceiling. His hips instinctively thrust up and forced more of himself down Zayn’s throat, knowing it would speed things along. Zayn gagged, but didn’t pull himself off, instead now flattening his tongue along the base, and keeping it there, and bobbing his head back and forth, letting Louis’ dick slip only barely from between his lips, before his mouth was on him again completely.

Louis continued to whimper, continued to beg for Zayn to be harsher, or just to fuck him. To do anything but keep teasing the way he was.

Zayn shook his head and laughed, the air passing through his lips and forcing Louis to arch his back on the bed so much he sat up and tugged on Zayn’s hair, legs now hooked over Zayn’s shoulders, heels pressing into his lower back, applying increased pressure with every memorable second.

Hearing his name from between Louis’ lips was different this time. They’d been friends for years but his voice was normally full of annoyance, not lust.   
“Zayn, I… fuck… swear to god just fucking finish me and then… shit… we can… fuck properly just oh my god.”

That was all Zayn really needed to hear, taking this cue to massage Louis’ hips with his hands, an admitted weakness of Louis’, and slowly inching his fingers closer to his balls, knowing they’d receive just as much attention as Zayn’s mouth was giving Louis’ dick.

Zayn could feel Louis twitch in his mouth and with one final suck, and a string of moans from Louis, he could taste Louis’ come and feel it sliding down his throat, coating it in a way not so different from the alcohol they’d had no less than 24 hours ago.

He pulled off with an obscene sound and winking up at Louis, panting above him, eyes barely open, and chest still heaving; he licked his lips clean of whatever he was unable to swallow.

“What was that you were saying about us fucking properly, Lou?”

“I don’t know but … I think I need another joint, or a drink, or something… we can’t do this when we’re sober…. But that doesn’t matter because fuck this is so much better.”

 

 


End file.
